Toasted Pineapples
by Shibo26
Summary: Just a series of sort of related, in sort of chronological order drabbles surrounding our favourite Phoenix and his boy toy. Rating is subject to change, any warnings will be posted at the beginning of a chapter


Ace thought he knew the pain of tattooing well enough, after all that was the first thing he did before setting out to sea on his seventeenth birthday. The design had been an easy enough choice, it was his name after all, the name he long ago promised every soul on this planet would learn. The name hr was to be known by, good or bad. But it wasn't just his name he carried on his arm, he carried with him his brothers legacy...in his own way Sabo made it out to sea with him after all.

It had only taken half an hour, maybe forty-five minutes to complete the tattoo, and while it _had_ hurt, it certainly wasn't the most painful thing ever. It was like getting a really bad sunburn, or even a bee-sting, either way it had hurt, but not so much that it even really registered, especially not when compared to Gramps fist of Love.

So one could forgive his arrogance on the day he decided to take the old man's mark. The others had been a little surprised when he decided he wanted it to take up his entire back. And not just the simple mark like Marco's, no he needed to face the jolly roger itself, from the bottom of his neck to the top of his waist.

"Now are you absolutely sure this is the one you want, and this is where you want it?" Thatch asked for what had to be the hundredth time as he set up the needles, being careful to keep them from touching anything unsterilised.

"Yes I'm sure" Ace huffed, "It's not like I haven't had a tattoo before"

"I'm aware you have...but this is going to take a _lot_ longer than your arm" Thatch emphasised, out of all the Haki users his hands were the most steady, making him the best tattooist on the crew.

"And it's going to hurt a _lot_ more"

"I told you I'm sure! Now just get on with it"

"Alright kid, I warned you"

Straddling the chair Ace thought he was completely prepared for the pain that was to come. He wasn't. He really wasn't. It started out alright, it was a familiar sting, but nothing he couldn't handle. And then the needle moved closer and and closer to his spine, the pain began to intensify. He could feel the needle's vibrations in his muscles, Thatch's firm hand on his back and gods it was so fucking hard to not move!

Half an hour ticked by. Then the hour mark. An hour fifteen minutes.

"Alright bud we're almost at the half way mark for the line work" Thatch assured him.

If his pride would ever allow it he may have cried. Because it was just unending, the longer time dragged on the more it began to hurt. And fuck every time the needle passed over his spine, he wanted to cry out. This was agony. But he couldn't, he couldn't cry out in pain. He couldn't flinch, not with his new crew watching, not while the party still raged on. And especially not with Marco watching him with those bird like eyes.

Gathering his will he steeled himself, he could do this. He could absolutely do this.

Two hours passed, and Thatch moved on to a different needle, the one he'd use for shading.

Ace decided he was never doing this again.

Shading as it turned out was far FAR worse than the line work. There was a larger area to tattoo and it just seemed to take forever. And thatch seemed to just go over the same spot, over and over and over and over again.

'The skin only takes a small amount of ink at a time' it was explained to him 'To get a solid colour you have to repeatedly go over it'

Three hours passed. Fours hours.

At the start he was able to joke around, able to talk and was generally able to pretend it didn't really hurt (by fuck it hurt) By the fourth hour? All his energy went towards keeping his tired and aching back from shaking. His muscles screamed from the abuse, from being forced to stay taunt for so long, from the pressure of the needle, from the constant burning pain.

He wrapped his hands around the front of the chair, clenched into fists as flames flickered to life, jumping from his hands to his elbows. It took all of his energy to keep the fire focused away from Thatch. While using Haki would allow the needle and ink to penetrate the logia's skin, it wouldn't be enough to protect Thatch from an unexpected fire ball.

So the others weren't really concerned that the longer the tattoo took the quieter Ace became until all he could do was grit his teeth, and try his damn well hardest not to make a single noise.

Five and a half hours it took to finish the damn thing. As soon as Thatch was done he passed Ace on to the nurses, who slathered his back in cream and wrapped it in bandages, rattling off instructions on how to care for it, to keep it from being ruined. To be honest Ace couldn't hear them through the buzzing in his ears.

He vaugley remembered being guided to his room, and someone carefully manoeuvring him into his sleep pants. Once the post tattoo haze faded he realised who exactly it was,

"Marco?" He muttered, confused,

"You're not going to be able to sleep on your back for a while" Marco informed the younger pirate, "It's going to hurt like nothing else for the next three or so days, and then the real fun begins, yoi" Marco's hand absently ran across his own tattoo, memories of the god awful itch returning.

He turned to continue his speech when he realized Ace as already asleep, leaning half over the edge of his bed, Marco's bed (he's not entirely sure why he bought Ace to his room instead of the boys own hammock)

"What am I going to do with you, yoi?" he muttered as he grabbed Ace's arm, intending on slipping on to his stomach...he'd let him nap for a while before awakening him and shoving him towards his own bed. Things didn't exactly turn out that way. Even in his sleep Ace was strong (a hell of a lot stronger than Marco had expected, especially from someone who originated in the East Blue) and somehow (marco had no idea how) managed to pull Marco beneath him, settling into the older man's stomach, mumbling sleepily as he did so.

Marco for his part was horrified at their position, but no amount of wriggling seemed to help. So admitting defeat he settled back, letting Ace sleep against his belly. Content that he would be getting his revenge in just a few days.

 **O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

The healing process of the tattoo, Ace decided, was far worse than the tattoo itself. The tattoo had just hurt, this? This was true hell.

"What on earth are you doing?" Izo asked as he walked past the young pirate one afternoon. Ace pressed his back harder against the wall, trying, trying so hard to alleviate this god awful itch.

"It itches" he whined pressing harder,

"Of course it does. It's a tattoo"

Marco took more than a little pleasure in watching the pup whine and roll around as he tried so hard to find some relief...maybe he would offer some, in the form of a cooling ointment that aided healing AND reduced itch...maybe in another day or so. When he was feeling a bit more generous, and maybe he'd be able to lure the young fire starter back into his room to do so.

Marco blinked. Where on earth did that come from? Shaking his head he left Ace is his agony, unaware of their fathers knowing gaze.


End file.
